Hold Me, Doctor
by Wednesday Addams Destroys All
Summary: The Doctor and Clara have been traveling for two years now, and he's begun to truly have feelings for her. But she is a human, and he is a Time Lord, and he desperately wants to change that. Will he find a way, or will she wilt away and die whilst he lives on forever? (A Whouffle fic) Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who

CHAPTER 1

"Doctor!" a small voice squealed.

Clara Oswald threw her arms around the Doctor in the doorway of her flat. It was Wednesday, therefor time for adventure.

"Hello, Clara," he smiled into her hair before pulling away, grabbing her hand, and leading her into the TARDIS. "Any ideas where to go today, or shall it be a surprise?"

"Surprise me, Chin-Boy," she grinned, swinging against the railings in the console room.

The Doctor loved it when she called him Chin-Boy. Of course, he never let on. After two years of travel with Clara, he would know if his feelings for her were requited. And as far as he knew and as far as he calculated, they weren't. Still, the nicknames for him made his hearts tingle.

He pulled a lever, rolled a dial, and pressed three buttons, and the familiar VWORP VWORP VWORP rang through the TARDIS. Clara ran up and down staircases and across balconies, giggling as she always did when they were in the act of traveling.

"Bet you can't catch me, Chiny!" she shouted, weaving between metal bars.

"Bet I can!"

He chased her and chased her, and she ran as fast as her short (but beautiful, mind you) legs could cary her. He chased her even after the Tardis landed. And finally, he grabbed her waist from behind, spun her around, and pressed her against the wall.

"Got ya!" he panted, arms still against her waist. Her eyes were wide, but she had a touch of a smile stretched across her lips.

Oh, how Clara longed to tell the Doctor how she felt **about** him, really. How she longed to close the few inches between them and kiss his lips, or maybe just his cheek, if that's all he'd allow. She wouldn't mind if he only let her kiss his cheek. She wouldn't mind to kiss his feet, really.

His hands were still rested on her; only because of their tiredness, they had sunken a little to her hips, and she was flat against the wall, willing him to come closer.

But he smiled and released her, and both heaved a long sigh to help them catch their breath.

"You're a fast little dwarf," he smiled, offering his arm.

"And you're a dead man walking if you keep making short jokes about my height," she growled dangerously after taking his arm reluctantly. "Where are we going?"

He opened the doors of the TARDIS and Clara grinned.

"The Beatles concert at Carnegie Hall in 1964?!" she shrieked. "Oh, Doctor!"

She squeezed his arm. They stood in front of the beautiful Hall in New York City, people flocking around. They walked up to the door and a man asked to see their tickets. The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper and showed him. He waved them inside.

Once they found their seats, Clara squealed yet again.

"Oh, Doctor, I could kiss you!"

"Then why don't you?" he asked in an uneasy smile.

She swatted at his arm. "Don't be rediculous."

After the concert, the Doctor pulled some strings (moreover, the psychic paper pulled some strings) and got them backstage. He had to catch Clara to keep her from toppling over when she saw John, Paul, George, and Ringo tuning their instruments and packing them away.

"Hello, there!" George smiled. "Backstage guests, I assume. What are your names?"

Clara just mumbled something incoherent while leaning against the Doctor.

"Big fan, she is," the Doctor explained. "My name is the Doctor, and this is Clara Oswald." He pushed Clara away and clasped Ringo's hand. "May I just say, I am a big fan!"

Once Clara exited her state of shock, John and she began to enter an in-depth conversation while the Doctor chatted with the other boys. They all got along so well, they took off to a pub and bought the place out for the night, since the Beatles were, of course, famous. The security stood at the doors while the Doctor talked with Paul, George, and Ringo and watched uneasily as John got closer to Clara.

Finally, after nearly an hour, John took her hand and pulled her into a hallway. The Doctor frowned

"Any idea where John's going?" he asked the others.

Paul shrugged, so they kept talking. But after ten minutes, he got worried. He stepped down the hall and opened doors into rooms, looking for Clara. He opened door after door, and as he started get further down the hallway, he wondered what exactly John was doing to his innocent Clara. His sweet, darling, innocent Clara. He finally had looked through all the bathrooms and all the storage rooms in the hall except the one at the very end. It was a janitor's closet. He opened the door, and-

Oh.

He supposed his Clara wasn't as innocent as he may have thought.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! I love a good Whouffle fic, don't you? But they're so hard to find! Please give feedback, my Whovians. I also love prompts, if you give me a prompt, I'll love you forever! Reviews are also fantastic. Now, the real important thing is: what is Clara DOING? (This fick is rated T, mind you! Don't get any wrong ideas!)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of the characters.

CHAPTER 2

Just kissing. She was just kissing him. But it was enough to enfuriate the Doctor. John's hands were clutching her waist, crushing her to him, and he'd occasionally slide his hands along her sides. Her left hand was in his hair and her right hand was wound around his neck. Their bodies were closely pressed, too closely.

The Doctor was enraged. He felt hate and anger boil up inside of him, starting in his hearts and pulsing through his vains until they reached his toes and the tips of his hair.

He charged into the room, pushed a shocked Clara aside, and punched John square in the nose so quickly, that anyone watching would have said it was almost alien, which, in fact, it was.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" the Doctor screamed, grabbing her by her arm.

John looked shocked and slightly agitated, but mostly scared.

"Are you two-" he started.

"Yes!" the Doctor responded without thinking. Only to protect Clara, he lied to himself.

Clara grinned and giggled and staggered in circles around the Doctor, clearly intoxicated. His Clara wasn't the one snogging John Lenon, drunk Clara was. A wave of relief rushed through him.

"Clara, were going," he mumbled, cutting short her drunken parade around him and hauling her out the door, down four blocks, all the way to the TARDIS.

When they got in, he laid Clara down in a bedroom and rifled through cabinets, finally finding a syringe that cured hangovers and drunken fits. He steadied her and pressed the plunger into her arm. When it was emptied, he sat next to her and waited for it to work.

"Doctor," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

He looked down at her, smiled, and stroked her cheek. "Don't worry about it, my little soufflé. You're alright."

"We only snogged, I promise," she slurred, voice still thick with alcohol's toll on her.

"Okay."

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Clara."

"Will you kiss me?" she asked.

"Maybe someday."

"Maybe now."

It's drunk talk, he thought. When would he ever again be able to kiss Clara Oswin Oswald? She'd forget about it in the morning. So he leant down and pressed their lips together. Clara's eyes fluttered closed as he put one arm against her shoulder and and his other hand slid gently into her hair. His hearts started beating quickly, too, as she curled her arms around his torso. She kissed with such patience and control and gentleness, something no intoxicated person could kiss like.

"Clara," he whispered, softly pulling away just a centimeter, eliciting a whimper from the girl. "You're not drunk anymore, are you?"

She grinned and opened her eyes to see the Doctors warm pupils gazing into hers. "No, Doctor."

He cocked his head and looked confused. "Come and rescue me, Chin-Boy, and show me the stars," she breathed into his ear, and they kissed again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's short, but fluff is super cute so yeah. Review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, would I be writing this fic?

CHAPTER 3

The Doctor was very willing to take Clara home, but even more willing to let her stay the night when she jutted her bottom lip out and traced her fingers along his neck, begging him to let her stay. So he prepared her bed.

The TARDIS was in a strange mood. The doctor could tell because when he walked out of the bedroom and looked around, all he saw was a kitchen, a bathroom, and the console room. He frowned.

"Come on, Sexy, what's all this? Why're you closing off all your rooms?"

The TARDIS shuddered in amusement. The Doctor knew she was forcing him and Clara to share such a tight place, if only for the night.

"I'll take her home," he threatened to the walls.

"You'll do no such thing!" her little voice chimed in. He heard the pitter-patter of her feet and then she flung her arms around him to ensure he stayed put. He smiled.

"Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" she asked, still pressing her chest against his back and panting, worried he might do as he said he would. He nudged her off gently, turned around, and folder her in his arms.

"Oswin," he whispered. She looked happily surprised by his use of her other name. "Now that I've got you, and trust me, I have wanted you a while, I will never, ever let you go. I was just warning Sexy... she closed off the rooms so all we've got is a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen."

"That's all we need, what's the problem?"

"There's only one bed Clara."

She grinned as she repeated herself. "What's the problem?"

"I like the way you think, Oswald."

"The use of all three of my names in the past hour to address me is extremely sexy, Doctor," Clara said with a wink, pulling him back into the bedroom.

They fell asleep a safe distance from each other, but close enough to enforce the fact that they were now together, and that was that. The Doctor fell asleep before Clara. Originally, they'd started out with his arm reaching across her pillow so that she laid her head on it. He laid on his back and she laid on her side, curled up and looking at him. But then, either in his sleep or whilst feining sleep, the Doctor reached over and grabbed her waist in his hand, tugging her closer so she could feel his breath on her neck, leaving prickling gooseflesh in it's wake.

"Clara," he mumbled in his sleep. She smiled as her face went hot and she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was dreaming of her, how she loved the thought. She fell asleep quickly after.

And awoke quickly after.

She bolted upright, screaming and thrashing and shoving, waking up the Doctor just in time to reach out and grab her.

"CLARA!" he shouted. "Clara, are you alright? CLARA, you're just DREAMING!"

Finally, after running his hands down her back and begging her to calm down, she ceased her convulsions and fell into his arms, sobbing against his shoulder. He whispered faint nothings in her ear and she fully wound herself around him, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist with her knees resting against his hips. In any other circumstances, would have been distracted by this, but right now, his Clara needed him.

"Clara," he whispered when she had calmed down so all that remained of her sobs was a steady stream of tears accompanied by the occasional deep and quick enhalation of breath.

Clara pulled her chin from his shoulder and looked him in the face, cupping his cheeks with her palms, running her thumbs along the great indents in his cheeks.

"D- Doctor," she sniffled. "I love you."

The words hit him hard, but he recovered quickly. "What's so bad about that?"

"You'll live forever and I'll die and leave you alone!" she sobbed, breaking into another set of wails.

"We can find a way somehow, love," the Doctor reassured her, running his hands through her hair. "You're my impossible girl, remember?"

He paused a moment, and it was his turn to caress her face and look into her eyes.

"You love me?"

She nodded, almost ashamed, and her eyes darted down. The Doctor tucked his hand underneadth her perfect little pointed chin and squeezed before pulling her to him and kissing her on the lips. Her legs tightened around him in response.

"I love you to," he promised. "But now, I think it's time for bed." They laid out onto the bed and the doctor pulled the thick down comforter over their intwined bodies. Clara's legs were tangled with his, his arms wrapped around her back, and her body pulled close with her arms curled up to her face and her head pressed against his chest. His steady breathing and the sound of his hearts (thumpthumpthumpthump, thumpthumpthumpthump) lulled her to sleep.

When she awoke in the morning, the Doctor was gone. She jolted into an upright position, shrieking in fear. She through herself out of bed and padded to the console room and bathroom. No doctor. So she rushed into the kitchen, and-

Dear God, he should've never been allowed in this place. Everywhere there was flour, splattered egg, and puddles of milk. In a corner there was a chaotic mound of dishes, half of them shattered, and in the middle of it all was the Doctor battling with an egg beater and resorting to bringing out his sonic to disable it. The TARDIS was groaning in anger and despair as the Doctor trashed her kitchen.

"Doctor!" Clara shouted incredulously. The Doctor turned and grinned.

"Clara!"

In a great sweeping motion, he exploded the egg beater, rushed to Clara, swooped her up in his arms, spun her around, and planted a long, steady kiss on her lips.

She giggled. "Doctor, what have you done to this place?"

"Ah, yes. Well, you see, I wanted to make you breakfast, what with your hard night last night but, uh..." He leaned close to her and whispered. "I don't think the egg beater likes me."

"Neither does 'Sexy'," she replied, adding in hand gestures to show the TARDIS's nickname.

"Clara Oswin Oswald, you cannot possibly be jealous of a ship."

Clara scoffed. "Don't think so highly of yourself, mate. I wasn't jealous. But maybe we should clean up?"

"I'll take the floor, you do counters."

She nodded in agreement and they set to work. When they had finished and the kitchen was cleaner than it had started, the Doctor's stomach growled.

"Hungry, Chin-Boy?" asked Clara. "Feel like soufflé, myself."

They pulled out all the dishes and ingrediants and Clara instructed him to seperate the egg whites. Almost immediately she saw the problem. He was slamming them together and crushing them!

"Like this," she said patiently, taking an egg, cracking it, and putting a half in each of her hands. She then took his hands in hers and showed him the right way.

After much instruction from Clara (and stealing a few kisses in between) the Doctor and Clara's soufflé was finished and they dug in. Once the pan was polished, Clara smiled at him and they finished the dishes, him washing whilst she dried.

And then, when they sat down and the subject of her going back home came up, he frowned. He got up, pulled her out of her chair, and stooped to get on one knee before her.

"Doctor-"

"Clara Oswald," the Doctor interrupted, "these past few months that I've loved have been wonderful, and I'd just like to ask you one question."

He pulled out a little black box and smiled up at her.

"No, Doctor, no no, stand up, what're you doing?" she asked. She wasn't ready for what was coming next.

He opened the lid to the box and her mouth dropped...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Proposal? Tiny Dragon? Dehydrated Dalek for entertainment purpouses? What's in the box?! Wouldn't you like to know. Review and I'll post the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Every bloody time. I think we all know that I don't own Doctor Who!

CHAPTER 3

It was a key.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked. "Sell your flat and never go back. You can live in the TARDIS. She wouldn't mind." A creak eminated from the walls. "Much."

Clara heaved a sigh of relief. "For a moment, Doctor, I thought you were proposing." She loved him, but wasn't ready for anything permanent. It scared her.

His eyes lit up, but he kept his trap closed. One day, maybe. If they could figure out the age predicament.

"Yes," she replied. "I'll stay with you."

They both grinned like fools. Corny, idiotic, helplessly-in-love fools.

The next few days were spent saving planets, but this time, instead of flirting with each other whilst on the brink of death, they kissed and laughed and hugged whilst on the brink of death. And when they'd finally saved every planet that needed saving, (for the time being) they collapsed on their backs onto the bed of the bedroom they'd grown accustomed to sleeping in. After they had caught their breath, Clara rolled on her side and looked down at the Doctor.

"Do you do this everyday, even without me around?" she asked, twiddling with his bowtie. She didn't do it often, but when she did, he know something was about to happen.

"Yep. No fun without you, though. Little Clara."

She scowled deeply as she climbed on top of him and straddled his stomach. "I thought we'd been over this. I-" Kiss. "-am not-" Kiss.

"Little," he finished for her, meeting her smirking lips again.

"Clara?" he asked, pulling away.

"Mmmm. Mhm?" she barely replied, leaving soft little kisses on his jaw.

"The whole age thing. Can we talk about that?"

"What age thing?" she asked as she tickled his neck with her nose.

"My immortality?"

Clara stopped dead in her tracks.

"Doctor, can we not talk about that while I'm intimately kissing every inch of you above your colar bone? It really dampens the mood."

"I'm not joking, Clara. I love you and want to be with you. Please be serious."

Clara's brow knitted together. He thought he saw tears in her eyes, but when she blinked, they were gone.

"Doctor," she whispered quietly, now only fixing his bow tie to keep her eyes from his face. "There's no way. If you don't still want me-"

"Clara, yes, I want you!" he exclaimed. She was able to smile a little, despite her current state of melancholy.

"But it's impossible-"

"But you're my impossible girl, Oswald!" he reminded her. "I'll find a way to make you immortal, or make me mortal. Or something else, I don't know. I'd sooner die than lose you."

Clara's lips curled into a little smile as she laid down, body against his, and stroked his chest until the two fell asleep.

When she awoke and found the Doctor was still asleep, oppurtunity presented itself and she had to take it. She wriggled out of his arms, ran to the kitchen, grabbed the whipped cream, ran back, and drew a smiley face on the Doctor. For once, the TARDIS shuddered in approval of Clara's actions. Clara smiled at the walls and cieling. The relationship was mending.

She stepped over to the doctor and shook him awake. "Doctor," she urged. "You still alive? Comatose? Unconsious?"

He finally groaned and opened his eyes, clearly feeling something was wrong. He brought his hand up to his face, and when he pulled back, his hand was covered in fluffy whipped sweetness. He shot Clara a look that said she had two seconds to drop the can she was holding and run or he'd eat her alive. She did run, but she did not drop the can. As they sprinted through the hallways, (the TARDIS had probably expanded again to let them have their bit of fun) she squirted him over her shoulder with her loaded can and he flailed his arms around, failing miserably at keeping the stuff off him. By the time the can was empty and they were both so out of breath they had to stop, the Doctor looked like a snowman. After grabbing their knees and panting for a while, Clara looked up at her... boyfriend? and grinned.

"Aw, Doctor. It's all over you. You're a mess."

"No thanks to you!"

"Technically," she reasoned, "all thanks to me."

"Stop being smart."

Clara smiled and wrapped her arms around her doctor, sticky fluff and all.

"I'm not done being mad at you," he pouted, turning his head away as far right as he could. Clara let out a little chuckle and put her hand on his whitened, slippery cheek and turned him back to face her.

"How can I make it up to you?"

He leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The kiss tasted sweet and sticky. Clara pulled away a few millimeters and actually - ACTUALLY - darted her tongue out and licked the whipped cream off the Doctor's lips. This left them both so surprised that they just stared at each other for a moment until breaking into a fit of laughter.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get cleaned up."

They each went into one of the Tardis's bathroom and showered, then got dressed. The Doctor finished before Clara, so he stepped out of his bathroom and waited in the console room for Clara to step out of hers.

When she did, his eyes widened at the dreadful sight.

"Look at these lovely new clothes the TARDIS got me," Clara smiled, chattering away, unbenownst to her the awful memories the clothes gave the Doctor.

She was wearing a red-hot dress that reached not quite to her thigh, a black utility belt that held mostly cooking utensils, huge red Converse, and a rose bud clipping in her hair, tucked behind her ear.

The Doctor wasn't sure HOW he knew that these were clothes Oswin Oswald had worn when she was killed in the Dalek Assylum, he just knew.

"Oswin!" he shouted. "Take off those clothes!"

"Goodness, Doctor, I'm not ready to go THAT-"

"No, Oswin, you don't understand." He didn't mean to keep calling her Oswin, it just happened that way. He rushed over to her and grabbed her shoulders. "You know your copies?"

She nodded.

"You remember Oswin, the Dalek-fighter?"

She nodded again.

"That outfit was hers," he finished, gesturing to her.

"Doctor," Clara stated matter-of-factly, "in that case, it is an honor for me to wear these clothes. And you can't deny it." She winked. "I look pretty sexy."

That he couldn't, he thought as he let out an exhale and released her shoulders. Clara wrapped her arms around his torso and burried her face into his chest, holding him closely and closing her eyes, letting him know that it was okay, and feeling very safe, indeed.

"Now," she said, releasing him, bouncing around the control room, and regaining her curious, excited grin. "Where to, Doctor? Are we going to save the world or save ourselves today?"

"We're going to go visit a friend of mine who may be able to help us," the Doctor replied.

"Who?" she asked, tilting her head and letting some hair fall into her face.

The Doctor looked up and smiled.

"You're going to love this."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: What will Clara/Oswin love? Will we ever know? Perhaps not... Review, review, review! ALSO IMPORTANT: I have auditions for the play Amadeus coming up. Please keep me and the other auditionees in your prayers or thoughts or whatever! (I'm using Clara quotes if I can throw them in.)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who (but honestly, who wouldn't mind owning HIM...) I do, however, own the character Seras and the planet mentioned in this chapter. I also wanted to thank you all for the lovely reviews and wishing me luck on my audition, and apologize for not updating. I've been on holiday :) Enjoy this next chapter!

CHAPTER 5

They spiraled through time. Clara was used to the feeling, but that didn't mean it didn't make her breathless and exhilerated every time. Halfway through the trip, she hurried over to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around him. Her two most favorite things, time-traveling through space and the Doctor, together at the same time. He planted a kiss on her head as they landed.

"Let's go," he mumbled into her hair.

She whined with a frown, grabbing the sides of his jacket to keep him from moving. "Stay," she whimpered. "For a bit, can't we just stay like this?"

"When we get back," he replied, taking her hand and leading her outside.

What she saw astounded her.

"Doctor, is this real?" she breathed in amazement.

"I should hope so," he chuckled. "I've been coming here since I was only a few centuries old. It's a place people throughout the universe go when they're lost, don't know what to do, or just need help. It's an entire planet dedicated to therapy!"

Clara normally would've laughed at a remark like this, but she was too entranced by the planet's beauty. Everywhere she looked were green, pink, orange, and yellow plants, suculent and bright and beautiful. There were a few huts scattered whilst they walked through the beautiful (but tame) jungle. The further they got, the more houses there were, and the fancier and nicer they became.

"There IS a price, of course," explained the Doctor as they walked, slipping his hand into Clara's and lacing their fingers together. "Wisdom like these people's doesn't come free. The better advice you give, the more people pay and the nearer to the palace you live."

"So where are we going?" Clara asked, realising at that point that the fanciness of the houses meant much more money for the Doctor to pay.

"The palace."

The Doctor smiled when he saw the shock on Clara's face.

"The ruler's an old friend. I saved his life and the life of his family in a war once. He can finally pay me back."

"But, Doctor, why are we asking anything at all?" Clara asked. The Doctor sighed and they kept walking.

Finally, they reached the gate of the palace.

"Halt!" cried a deep, rumbling voice. "State your name."

"The Doctor."

"Doctor!" the terrifying voice said. "Forgive me, I did not know it was you." The owner of the voice waddled out, and Clara's jaw dropped. It, whatever it was, was at least two feet shorter than Clara herself, and that really meant short. It had firey red skin and held a spear.

"You have an audience with the king?" asked the little red man in his scary deep voice.

"No, but I need one."

"Certainly. Enter, Doctor."

The gate opened at the command of the red man and the Doctor and Clara walked inside. The palace guard at the door let them through after a short questionare, as well, and after getting directions, soon, they were standing in front of a slightly larger little red alien that wore a crown, held onto a ceptre, and sat on a throne.

"Doctor," the king said with a smile. "You have come to visit me. How are you? Well, I trust?" he added, motioning to the Doctor's and Clara's entwined hands.

"Actually, Seras," he replied, "I came for a favor."

"Anything," smiled King Seras. "Without you, I'd not be here."

"Clara," the Doctor said with a sad smile. "Could you leave us alone for just a moment?"

Clara smiled, kissed the Doctor's lips gently, (but took her time, because she didn't like leaving him very much) and walked out the door.

"She is beautiful, Doctor," Seras said with a smile. "Is she your mate?"

"Uh... er... in a way, but not... not in THAT way, no."

"What you mean to say is that you haven't...?

"No. But I do love her."

"What species is she?"

"Human, my friend. Which is why I came to see you. Seras, I do love her. I mean, really. I truly do. But... I'll never die and she won't even be around for a century, most likely. I don't want to give up my timelord duties, but I also don't to put the huge burden of never-ending life on her. What do I do?"

Seras sat for a moment, head cocked, arms folded, and brow furrowed. Finally, he got up, went to a cabinet, picked up a tiny vial, and muttered words that even the TARDIS's translation couldn't understand. Then he put a chord on it and handed it to the Doctor.

"Whoever drinks it shall become like the other," Seras said. "Who drinks it is up to you. You have all the time in the world to decide."

"Thank you," the Doctor smiled.

"A pleasure, my friend. I hope all works out."

When the Doctor and Clara finally got back to the TARDIS, he told her what had happened.

"We don't have to decide tonight," she shrugged. "I, personally, could think of a lot more fun things to do. But let me wear it, yeah?"

The Doctor took it from his pocket and put the chord around her neck.

"Shall we call it a night?" she asked as he curled his arm around her waist and they began walking to the bedroom. He turned her to him, put his hands on her cheeks, and kissed her. She responded eagerly, letting his hands get lost in her silky brown hair. When he pulled away, she smiled, took his hand, and walked to the bedroom.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I'm trying not to ONLY do fluff, because what's a story that's only cuteness? But be warned: the next-next chapter will probably be just DoctorxClara sweetness. The next chapter leads up to the next-next chapter, so- okay, so I have you thoroughly confused. I'm also going to start a Clara/Roy fic inspired by Asylum of the Daleks. That will be coming soon, it will be called "Broken Machine." Not creative, I know, but it'll be out soon. So, until next time...REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own Doctor Who. I have to remind myself every day. I am currently sitting in a stall at a restaurant while I update. Quite drafty in here! Trying to escape my dreadful aunt for just a few moments. This is also kind of a cliff-hanger chapter, so it's rather short. On purpose. Without further ado...

CHAPTER 6

Clara stretched her arms far enough so that they hit the wall the bed was against. The sun was poking through the curtains and hitting the face of her Doctor. His right leg was nestled in between hers and his arms were coiled around her little body.

She stroked the side of his face, gently, slowly, but still enough to wake a sleeping timelord. He opened his heavy, drooping eyes and smiled at her.

"My Impossible Girl..." he whispered, closing his eyes again and nestling his face against her chest as she stroked his hair.

"Morning, Chin-Boy," she breathed into his hair, kissing him atop the head.

Then without warning, he sprang up into a sitting position with a great big goofy grin on his face, nearly knocking Clara off the bed.

"Clara, do you know what day it is?"

"D- Doctor?"

"Today is a very important day!"

"Err... Doctor...?"

"Don't tell me you forgot the most important day the two of us will ever know?!"

"Doctor," she panted. "Are you ill?"

"Clara, today is our marriage anniversary!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Confused?

YOU SHOULD BE.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whatever, Doctor Who, not mine. Yeah.

CHAPTER 7

"Marriage Anniversary?!" Clara gasped.

"Oh, I must've woken up in the wrong year, dear me," the Doctor smiled, jumping off the bed and kneeling with Clara's hands in his.

"Dearest Clara, since I forgot to say spoiler alert, and it's gonna happen anyway, by God, will you marry me?"

Clara flung herself into the Doctor's arms and kissed him repeatedly before choking out a "yes."

The Doctor had made reservations actually several months before, for who would reject his marriage proposal? Certainly not Queen Elizabeth. They traveled to a church on the planet Zorwick that they were to be married in. The Doctor was about to step from the TARDIS when Clara grabbed his arm.

"Fancy getting married in a purple tweed jacket and striped grey bowtie, do we?" she asked with a cocked brow. "Let's see what the TARDIS has for us."

Clara and the Doctor hurried to seperate rooms to get dressed. He finished before her. The TARDIS had supplied him with a black suit, very fitting, very sleek, and a red, shiny satin bowtie. But when Clara stepped out of that room, he thought he was going to collapse and die.

Her dress what white, of course. It clenched her upper body and waist, and at her hips, branched out into a long, flowy skirt that reached the silver heels on her feet. Her hair was done up like on might see in an Audrey Hepburn film, sprinkled with little ornaments the color of pearls that glittered and dangled against her silky auburn waves.

"Careful, you'll catch a fly in your math hanging it open like that," Clara giggle, chewing on her lip.

"Shall we, dearest?"

Clara took his arm. The alien planet's marriage ritual resembled Earth's immensly, but not perfectly. Clara was mesmerized by the beautiful language that the priest whispered. The TARDIS could translate, but she chose for it not to.

"Garütee, amies ne ga."

-"You may kiss the bride."-

The Doctor leaned towards her and their lips met.

Two hours later, as they sat in the TARDIS, Clara finished pulling her tanktop and sweatpants on as the doctor changed into his jammys that were basically a softer, more limp version of a suit jacket and bowtie.

He walked over to Clara, who was fiddling with her tank top. He sat next to her and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and tilted her head in enjoyment.

"Love," he murmered into her skin. "Need help with your hair?"

She nodded and he set to work, gently undoing the tight clasps that belonged to the beautiful little pearls. After he had cleared them all away, Clara fell against the bed and tugged for the Doctor to follow. He hovered about a foot over her and took the bobypins out of her hair, letting it fall loosely to the side of her head like a halo. He ran his fingers through it, then pressed a kiss to her neck.

"Down, boy," she whispered, stroking his back. He worked his way up to her colar bone, her jaw, and finally, her lips.

"Clara," he said between kisses as she tugged his jacket and tie off and nibbled on his bottom lip. "Just- realised. I left my- ring in- the console room."

"Clothes now, rings later!" she demmanded.

Thirty minutes later, they laid under the sheets, holding onto each other for dear life.

"That was REALLY fun," Clara giggled.

"Yes. Yes it was," the Doctor agreed.

Clara climbed on top of the Doctor so she could look at him properly. He tried not to be distracted by the fact that she was naked.

"Doctor, I want you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

She leant down and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

"Do that again," she whispered into his ear.

A few weeks later, as the Doctor was working on the console room, he heard a shriek from somewhere in the TARDIS. He gasped and ran in the direction of the sound, finding himself in a bathroom with Clara, half her shirt pulled up. She was crying, but she had this great, big grin on her face.

"I'm pregnant."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We all saw it coming.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimed: I don't own Doctor who, just their son.

CHAPTER 8

"P- Pregnant?" the Doctor stammered. "How... how..."

"Doctor," she giggled. "How do you think?"

"But, Clara, it's half human, half timelord. What will the outcome be? The poor child won't even be able to control itself with those mixed abilities. We should've never... err... done that thing... that we did."

"Sex, Doctor? Look, it was bound to happen. And I'm glad it did. I will be honored to carry your baby."

He gave her quick kiss on the cheek, but she cocked her eyebrow.

"You know better than that."

She grabbed his bowtie and kissed him fully on the lips.

And then came all the things you might expect in a normal pregnancy. All the cooing at her stomach, all the sweet, gentle kisses applied to both Clara's lips and her stomach, the morning sickness and most violent mood swings, even the strange cravings that lasted days. It was bliss in some ways, and hell in another.

And then, one night, Clara shot up in bed.

"Something's wrong."

It was early, even the Doctor knew that. It was far too early. The baby should not be coming yet.

"Clara, love," he said hurriedly, sitting up and supporting her back. "It's not coming yet, is it?"

"No, Doctor, it's not. But something-"

But she was interrupted, because low in her throat came a horrific, thundering moan that, without a moment's hesitation, progressed into a viscious scream.

"Clara!"

"It hurts!" she sobbed between little shouts. "Doctor, help me! What's happening?!"

"I don't know!" he replied.

He jumped out of bed to look for something, anything, that could help her, but since he couldn't tell what was wrong, and she was in no state to tell him, he had no idea what to do.

"Clara!" he shouted. He started crying, actually crying, and repeating her name.

After a good three hours of screaming, the gut-wrenching pain passed with the time. In its place remained an ache that spread throughout her whole body. Clara shuddered, but for what she knew, the worst was over.

"I am so sorry," the Doctor murmered. "So sorry."

Clara clung to his arm with her legs folded against herself.

"Am I going to die?"

"No. I Promise."

He feared for how mucit would hurt in a few months when it was time for child birth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh no! Daleks for you all, I can't update, I need a prompt! (This is a hint. Take it if you ever want to see your precious chapter 9.)


End file.
